


Patched Up

by kkismygod



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bath, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Caretaker Anakin, F/M, Fluff, Playful Reader, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Rain, Reader Is Injured, Secret Relationship, Soft Anakin Skywalker, Whump, Wine and Cupcakes, Worried Anakin Skywalker, not too much though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkismygod/pseuds/kkismygod
Summary: Reader gets her face all cut up during a mission, fluff ensues where Anakin helps patch her up, wash up, and get fed. Just some worried, protective, adorable Anakin with lots of fluff because soft Anakin is the best Anakin :)
Relationships: Anakin/Reader, Anakin/Yn
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	Patched Up

**Author's Note:**

> I'm open to any suggestions on what you want me to write! I hope you enjoy, I know I did :) xo

You didn’t know you’d been cut until the blood dripped from your forehead onto the white linoleum floor between your feet. You stared at it, shocked for a moment before you realized the bounty hunter was getting away. The bomb he had set in the abandoned pub ticked in your ear menacingly, counting down the seconds you and your team had to live.

Ignoring the obvious fact that you’d been wounded, you stood and sprinted after the bounty hunter. It was hard-- the fact that you weren’t a Jedi certainly didn’t help-- but with your learned skills from training at the assassin academy for more than a decade, you managed to corner them against a wall. A group of clones came up on either side of the bounty hunter, trapping him. 

“You put up a better fight than I expected,” you admitted, walking closer to the hunter with your duel daggers out. Once you got close enough, you knocked the gun out of his hands and pinned him against the floor. The clones watched closely as you dug your knee into his back and tied his hands together. “I’m sure the Republic will love hearing how you’ve tried to blow up this secret Sepratist weapon manufacturing hub,” you added, although the bounty hunter laughed in response.

“Not ‘tried to,’ love,” he chortled. You could hear the timer tick again, then stop. Realization dawned on you, and your eyes widened.

“Get to the ship!” you yelled, and dropped the bounty hunter. The blast would take care of him-- and you, if you didn’t move NOW. 

Debris shot past your head as you rocketed out of the pub, the battalion of clones that the Jedi offered you to complete the mission following close behind. They shielded you with their armor as bits of the exploded pub shot through the air, but a sharp piece of metal managed to pierce the skin of your cheek. Adrenaline numbed the pain, and you made it back to the ship breathing hard, trying to drag in as much air as you could into your abused lungs.

As the clones filed into the spaceship, you looked back at the sight of your mission. All that was left was a smoking pile of debris. There was no way the bounty hunter had gotten out alive, and although the Senate would have liked to have him stand trial, your mission for the Jedi had been completed. Destroy the weapon factory. 

Now all that was left to do was to make it back to the temple, without dying of blood loss first. 

Holding your hand underneath your cheek, you tried catching as much blood in your hand as possible so that it didn’t get on the floor. Not that it mattered, this ship had seen enough blood in its days, but you’d rather not add to the mess the workers back at the temple would have to clean up. Doing so proved more difficult than anticipated, as you moved to close the door and then sit down at the piloting station and start the ship. Blood ran down your face fast, and soon your hand began to overflow.

Wiping your hand off on your shirt, you then tried soaking the blood up with your sleeve, although it mostly managed to smear further across your face. You’re not sure which slasher film victim you resembled once the Jedi council picked up your hologram message.

You relayed the details of the mission, and the outcome to Yoda. He looked pleased, and thanked you for taking on a mission the Jedi could not complete due to their busy schedules fighting the war. Before the call ended, he pointed out the obvious.

“Blood on your face, you have,” he said. “Medics when you return, will be sent.”

“There’s no need,” you assure him. “It’s just a scratch. Or two. But I can take care of it, the medics should stay with injured soldiers.”

“Very selfless, you are,” he bowed his head, and the call ended. Now that no one was watching you, you leaned back in your seat and blew out a long breath of air. Time to go home.

*****************************************************************************************************

Hyperspeed brought you over the planet of Coruscant in no time. Within 15 minutes of departing from the planet where the bounty hunter had been, you landed the ship carefully-- flying ships still made you nervous sometimes, although your boyfriend Anakin had certainly helped you gradually get over your fears-- and stepped out of the ship. You dropped to the ground of the docking bay, the blood in your head suddenly plummeting. Your vision went all fuzzy and your knees went weak, so you steadied yourself against the metal of the ship. Thankfully, someone else was there to catch you before you could fall and truly embarrass yourself.

“Woah,” Anakin met your waist with his mechanical arm, pulling you back to your feet. You met his blue eyes, which were swimming with concern. “What happened here?”

You touched your cheek with your fingertips, and they came away wet with crimson fluid once again. You frowned, thinking the bleeding had at least slowed in the time it took to get back. The cut must be deeper than you thought.

“I’ll be okay,” you told him, already anticipating his onslaught of mother-henning. Anakin was a worrier, understandably so regarding what happened with his mother, but you appreciated the fact that he cared. 

“Y/n, your whole face is covered in blood,” he brought his flesh hand up to try and rub some blood off your uninjured cheekbone, frowning when it proved pointless. “Those cuts need to be looked at-- you’re coming with me.”

Before you could protest, Anakin whisked you away from the docking bay. Removing his hand from your waist so it wouldn’t raise suspicion with the other Jedi, he settled for taking your bloody hand in his and pulling you all the way to his quarters. He brought you into his bathroom, sat you down on the toilet, and handed you a wad of rolled up tissue paper to hold to your face as he dug through his cabinets for medical supplies. All the while, he chastised you for… well… everything.

“What happened? Why didn’t the medics meet you at the docking bay? Does the council know the extent of your injuries?”

“Yoda offered to send medics, but I told him not to. It’s really not that bad,” your voice is muffled by the tissue paper. 

“What were you thinking? What if you bled out? What if you passed out before I could catch you? You could have hit your head. How did this happen in the first place?”

“Anakin, I’m fine,” you laughed, finding his worrying adorable. “Yeah it’s a lot of blood, but it doesn’t even hurt.” You pause. “...much.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eyes for a moment, then went ripping back into his cabinet for pain killers. Filling up a glass of water with the Force while simultaneously opening up the pill bottle with his hands, you barely blinked before he thrust them into your bloody palms. 

“Down the hatch. Now.” he ordered, and watched with his arms crossed as you slipped the pills past your lips and sipped the water. You laughed all the while, although it looked more like a grimace due to the fact that you couldn’t move your face much without a piercing pain. Once you swallowed, he knelt down to your level and gently covered the hand holding the tissue paper to your face with his, peeling it back to see the damage. You watched his eyebrows draw down, his lips curve into a pout as he inspected your wounds.

“You’re cute when you’re worried,” you tease him, hating the fear that flashed through his eyes. 

That did the trick-- he flicked his gaze up to meet with yours, his annoyed glare hard and unyielding. 

“Can you blame me for being concerned? I was waiting for you to come back so I could take you to a picnic I set up in the gardens, only to find you falling out of the ship, covered in blood, your face all slashed up, and on the verge of collapse. Anyone would be a little upset.”

“A picnic?” Your voice raised hopefully. “Ooh, that’ll be fun. I’ve never been on a picnic before.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not going anywhere until you’re all patched up. And even then, you’ve lost a lot of blood. Maybe we should push it back for sometime else.”

Anakin took the tissues from you and threw them in the garbage bin. He wet a cloth in the sink, then came back to stand in front of you. He tilted your face up to look at him as he began running the cloth over your face, gently cleaning the blood away.

“Where in the gardens were you thinking?” you ignored his plans on cancelling. 

“The south end, with the red flowers you like so much. I moved some stuff around to block the path and shield us from view, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Always one step ahead,” you close your eyes so he can get your eyebrows and eyelids.

You could feel Anakin’s cool breath wash over your face as he sighed. The cloth moved to the injured half of your face, slowing and dropping in the pressure used as he cleaned around the cuts. Your eyes were closed, but you could practically sense the look he had on his face right now.

“You still never told me who did this to you.”

“The bounty hunter,” you kept your eyes closed, fighting back the urge to wince as the pain in your face heightened. He was being astronomically careful, but the wounds had to be cleaned and that meant pain, unfortunately for you. The least you could do now was mask it so that Anakin wouldn’t feel bad for hurting you. “He threw a knife at me and it hit me in the forehead. Then he blew up the pub and a piece of shrapnel hit my cheek.”

“Force,” he muttered under his breath. “You know I know you’re capable of carrying out these missions, but I still don’t like the prospect of you getting hurt like this.”

“I know, Ani,” you open your eyes to look at him. His face was as expected-- drawn eyebrows, pouty lips, dark curls shining in the bathroom light. He was beautiful, protective, and all yours. “I don’t have to remind you how hard it is to watch you leave for missions. You’re fighting a WAR out there.”

“So are you, now,” he dabbed at a spot of blood on your temple. “This mission with the weapon hub was the first of many for you. The council says so. They’ll only get harder from here on out, and I just don’t know how safe it is…”

“I’m no Jedi,” you tell him softly. “But I am a fighter. I can handle myself, you know. Plus, I have you to patch me up if I ever get hurt again.”

He rolls his eyes at your crooked smile.

“Plus,” you continue. “Maybe now they’ll send us on a mission together! Imagine us, side by side, kicking some Separatist ass. That’d be kinda cool, wouldn’t it?”

At this, Anakin rewarded you with a small sideways smile. “It would.”

Deciding your face had been cleaned as much as it could, he dropped the dirty washcloth into the sink and grabbed a tube of some kind of antibacterial ointment. He used his gloved hand to tilt your chin back up again, and began softly running his real finger over the cut on your forehead, spreading the ointment along with it. 

“They don’t look deep enough for stitches, and I don’t think you’ll have any scarring. You got lucky in that case,” he mumbled as he concentrated on keeping his touch feather-light. “However, these aren’t just ‘cuts.’ They’re deep, and they’re gonna take some time to heal. Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Anakin captured your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, moving it so the injured half of your face was closer to him. You took the opportunity to shamelessly stare at your beautiful boyfriend, studying every flawless inch of his face. Sometimes you wonder why someone like him would choose to be with someone like you. He was never shy to tell you time and time again how beautiful YOU were, but you always rallied it back on to him in which he just laughed and shook his head at you. Stupid, protective, heroic, reckless, kind, stubborn, beautiful boy. 

As Anakin smoothed some ointment over the gash on your cheekbone, you couldn’t help but flinch at the sharp stinging pain that flooded your face. Obviously the cheek had gotten hit the worst, and as the last of the adrenaline wore off, you were beginning to feel your whole face come alive with a pulsing sting.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin murmured, moving quickly to get the hard part over with. “The painkillers should start kicking in soon.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I can handle a bit of pain. Now, let me see how gorgeous I look.”

You pushed his hands off you and stood, swaying slightly on your feet but hiding it by gripping onto the sink under the mirror. With one look at yourself, it was hard to keep yourself from cringing at the gory mess your face had become.

Anakin was right-- the gashes on your skin were deeper than they seemed, and were a bright angry red. One ran from the middle of the your hairline to the edge of your brown, and the other started at the outside corner of your eye and travelled diagonal to the corner of your nose, then down near your mouth. 

“It got your dimple,” Anakin frowned, washing his hands in the sink while studying your reaction in the mirror. 

“I have another one,” you point to the uninjured side of your face.

He responded by kissing it softly, before moving past you to throw the empty ointment tube in the trash and to grab the gauze from the sink counter. He held it up and smiled with the corner of his mouth.

“Ready for the fun part?”

“Make me look cute, baby.”

He huffed at the pet name, but muttered anyway, “You always look cute.”

You stuck your bottom lip out and scrunched up your eyebrows. “Aaaaaww. You’re the sweetest! The sweetest little baby. Thank you, Ani.”

“Careful, or I’ll take it back,” he warned, carefully placing a square of gauze on your forehead. He ripped some tape off from the roll with the Force and gently smoothed it over your skin.

“So about this picnic,” you moved your face when he nudged your chin with his finger again. This had you staring at the wall now. 

“Not happening.”

“Why?” you whined.

“You can barely stand without falling over. You need time to rest and heal up. The picnic can wait.”

“You don’t STAND at a picnic, Anakin.”

“You won’t be able to walk all the way there. And I can’t carry you without people asking questions.”

“I can make it there just fine! Plus, I don’t want all your hard work to go to waste.”

“Please,” he chuckled. “Moving a couple flower pots was not hard work.”

“But all the food you got…”

“I’ll have Obi-Wan retrieve it and bring it back for us. We can just stay here and eat it. Besides,” he used the Force to change the window from white to show the outside city of Coruscant. “It looks like it may rain.”

“Oh,” you study the gray clouds outside. “I love rain.”

“I know you do,” he smiled softly, smoothing down the last piece of gauze and tape on your cheek. When he finished, he enveloped the sides of your neck in his hands, using his fingers to push your head down. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the untouched skin on your forehead, breathing in your scent. 

“I love you,” he said lowly before pulling away. You can’t help the grin that broke out on your face, the warmth from blossoming in your chest.

“Ow! Don’t make me smile,” you laugh through the pain, but bring your hands up to hold onto his wrists to keep him there anyway. “But I love you too. I really do.”

Anakin’s eyes shift to your hands holding onto him. His face darkens again, and he moves to hold your palms in his. “You’re still covered in blood. You wanna wash up here?”

You nod, and then lean back as he gets up to throw the rest of the supplies in the cabinets and then start readying the washing area. “Shower or bath?”

“Mmmmm bath please,” you decide, rolling your shoulders and feeling the uncomfortable stiffness plaguing your movements. Between the blood loss and your sore muscles, you don’t think you’ll be able to stand for very long.

While Anakin twisted the knobs in the shower to start the bath, you pushed yourself to your feet and pulled the ponytail from your falling-out hairdo, shaking your messy locks. A cute look, for sure-- all gauzed up like a paper mache volcano, hair falling wildly around your face like a lion’s mane, hands still caked in dried blood. A damn catch, if you’re being honest. 

Anakin turned and moved toward the door to give you some privacy. “Uh, shampoo and everything is in there, towels are over there, just turn the bottom knob all the way to the right when you want the water off.” He opened the bathroom door and stepped out. “Shout if you need anything.”

As soon as the door closed, you yanked off your nasty shirt, followed by your bra and pants and underwear. It seemed like your blood had gotten everywhere on your clothes, even your boots, and you suddenly realized you didn’t know what you would wear when you got out.

A problem for a different moment, you decided, and stepped into the warm bath. Immediately, it was pure bliss, soothing your muscles and washing the sweat and dirt away. You got to work scrubbing the blood from under your fingernails first, then carefully dunked your hair and shampooed it to get the dried blood out of there too. Once you lathered your body up in soap, you decided to just soak for a while, turning the knob to slow to a trickle so the bath wouldn’t overflow.

Outside, you could here Anakin talk to Obi-Wan over hologram.

“--Yeah she’s here, pretty beat up but otherwise she’s fine. Hey, can I ask you a favor--” he then requested Obi-Wan clean up the picnic he had set up, being the only one who knew of your relationship, he was the only one who could without being suspicious. Obi-Wan agreed to bring the food over, and Anakin thanked him. A moment after they hung up, you heard a soft knock on the door.

“Y/n? I have some of the clothes you left here to wear, if you’d like.”

“Oh, yes please,” you closed the shower curtain so Anakin could come in without seeing your bruised body in all its naked glory. 

“I’m leaving them on the counter,” he informed you. You could see his silhouette bend down to pick up your dirty clothes and boots, and then he left again. You sunk further into the water, the bubbles in the bath tickling your chin.

He was just so damn sweet.

You don’t know how long you stayed in the bath. Honestly, you think you might have fallen asleep at one point. You just loved being able to relax, knowing Anakin was right outside as you let the dripping water lull you into a peaceful meditative mode. The stinging in your face had dulled-- not disappeared, but it wasn’t a constant hum of pain anymore. You could honestly stay here like this forever.

However… the water was getting cold. And the darkening sky outside told you the rain would start soon, and you wanted to be in Anakin’s room where he had a big window overlooking the entire city to watch the storm.

Careful not to slip, you maneuvered your way out of the tub and wrapped yourself in a towel. You pulled the drain and made sure the water disappeared as you got dressed in the sleep shorts you kept in Anakin’s dresser for when you wanted to sleep over, as well as one of your sleep shirts and even a pair of your socks. You towel dried your hair, folded it up, and then hung it back up on the wall before opening the bathroom door to Anakin’s quarters. He was sitting on the couch, watching the skyline through the window when you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your chin in his soft curls as you scanned the storm clouds with him.

“Obi-Wan’s coming with the food, he should be here any minute now,” he told you, bringing a hand up to cover your own. “You wanna take this to the bedroom?”

“Oh, would I,” you waggled your eyebrows, smirking with the good half of your face.

He chuckled and stood, keeping your hand in his. “You know what I mean.”

“Take me, Anakin Skywalker,” you begged wistfully as he walked across the apartment to his bedroom with you in tow. “You know you want to.”

“I know I want to,” his tone was serious despite your joking one. He closed the door behind you with the force, and then led you to sit on his bed. You crawled up onto the covers and crossed your legs, wondering where he was going with this.

He stood before you and rested his hands on your knees, keeping you rooted to the spot. You watched his chest get closer as he leaned in close, his lips near your ear, and you could feel his breath tickle your neck, raising goosebumps on your arms. You sat, wide-eyed and staring at the golden skin of his collar bone, barely breathing, awaiting his next move.

“Too bad Obi-Wan just got here with the food,” he whispered, and planted a warm kiss underneath your ear before pulling away. He left with a cocky grin, leaving you frozen on the bed so he could retrieve the supplies from Obi-Wan. 

“Jesus…” you muttered, pressing a hand to your chest to stop your heart from beating so quick. No doubt Anakin could sense it. 

Once the heat from your cheeks cooled and your heartbeat returned to normal, you laid back on Anakin’s bed and stretched out like a starfish. Your muscles protested, but it felt good to be on the soft, cushiony material of his bed.

“Some food for you, m’lady,” Anakin held a sandwich over your face when he returned, and you lifted your hands to take it from him. You immediately began eating it, not realizing at first how hungry you were. It had been over 24 hours since you’d left for the mission and had last eaten.

As you ate your sandwich, Anakin picked at some grapes and walked around the room, waving his arm over the wall to switch it to the window. Rain pattered against the glass now, droplets racing each other to the bottom. He adjusted the temperature in the room, and then began fiddling with one of the many new contraptions he’d been tinkering with, and then began to undress. You tore your eyes away from the storm clouds to watch him set his lightsaber on the desk, then unclasp his belt and set it beside the saber, followed by the tunic which left him in a loose fitting shirt and his pants. 

He ran his hands through his curls as he walked the clothes over to his closet, and then started messing with the thermostat again.

“Would you just come here and sit with me already?” you moan, throwing your sandwich scraps in the trash. Anakin turned to look at you from his place across the room.

“One moment…”

You waited patiently, and soon you felt the bed dip beside you and you sat up to scooch over and give him more room. He passed a cupcake your way-- chocolate, your favorite-- and then brought a glass of dark red liquid up to his lips.

“Is that wine?” you laugh through a mouthful of cupcake. He narrowed his eyes, but smiled at your awkward facial expression anyway.

“Am I not allowed to drink wine in my own home?”

“You are, I just didn’t peg you as a wine type of guy,” you admit.

Anakin shrugged, then brought the bottle over to his free hand with the force. “You want some?”

You and Anakin then sat and watched the storm, sipping wine and eating chocolate cupcakes. A perfect way to end a shitty mission.


End file.
